


Adorable

by Fragged



Series: Adorable [1]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Crack, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 04:19:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2926172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fragged/pseuds/Fragged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh my God!" Chloe chokes out, hands up to her mouth and eyes wide. "He's so <i>cute</i>!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adorable

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** There is absolutely no point to this, and everyone is an idiot. Kind of like life. *Cues existential crisis*

Young looks down at the collection of randomly assorted items outside his door.

“TJ, come in. Something is wrong with Greer,” he says into his radio. 

_“What is it, sir?”_

“I'm not sure, but he's acting strange. He keeps bringing me things.” 

A few beats of silence pass before she answers. _“He keeps...bringing you things?”_

“Yes! Food, clothes, things like that,” he says irritably. He gets the distinct impression she is laughing while he's transmitting. “Look, I'll take him over to the infirmary, you can check him out.” 

_“Copy that.”_

Greer rounds the corner with one of Park's hydroponics experiments in his arms. It's a fern-like bush the size of a small European car, and Young rolls his eyes in exasperation. 

“Sir,” Greer says excitedly. “I got you a plant!” 

-

TJ looks at them for a few long moments, her eyes flicking between Greer, his fern, and Young. 

“Yes,” she says thoughtfully, as she taps her fingertips against her lips. “I have just the thing.” 

She rummages around in one of the drawers in the back of the infirmary, and comes up with a red ribbon with white polka dots. “Perfect.” 

Young looks on in confusion, and it isn't until she's halfway done tying the ribbon into a bow on the top of his head that he realizes she is _putting a ribbon_ in his _hair_. 

“What the hell, TJ?!” he growls, but he doesn't push her away. 

When she steps back, her eyes glitter at him happily. “Perfect,” she says again, with a contented sigh. 

“Yep, that is cute as hell,” Greer nods from where he's collecting different kinds of medicine in an empty jar, undoubtedly meant to be yet another gift. Young doesn't even bother stopping him. It's TJ's problem, now.

“You two, _stay here_ ,” he snaps. He closes the door to the infirmary behind him. What the hell is going on with everyone? 

Young is halfway down to the control interface room before he realizes he still has the ribbon in his hair. 

-

He is glad when he meets Scott on the way to the control room. 

“Lieutenant, something is going on. Greer and TJ are in the infirmary, they're acting strange—”

He trails off and looks down at where Scott is holding his hand. Scott looks vaguely worried. 

“Strange how, sir?” he asks seriously. 

“Scott, let go of my hand.” 

“Oh, right,” Scott says confusedly, as Young extricates his hand from his grip. 

“I need you to go over there and keep an eye on them. Let go of my hand, Scott.” 

He pulls away again. 

“Yes, sir, I'm on my way. Give me your hand.” 

Young closes his eyes slowly and backs away from Scott. 

“Infirmary, _now_!”

-

“Oh my God!” Chloe chokes out, hands up to her mouth and eyes wide. “He's so _cute_!”

“Sir,” James says, in a voice that is halfway between her military bark and her relaxed speaking voice. “Permission to pet you?” 

“What?” he says, taken aback. “ _No_!” 

James scratches at his shoulder anyway. Like he's a dog. He steps away from her in bewilderment. He never should have come here. 

“Aw, come on,” Eli says, in a voice like Young is a five year-old child. “You don't have to be shy! Here...comes... _the tickle-monster_!” 

And then Young is running from Eli and James, while Chloe looks on with rapt eyes. 

“Cuuuuuute,” she says breathlessly, through her spread fingers. 

-

He escapes to Brody's still. Not because he wants to drink, although he _does_ , but because it's the middle of the afternoon and no one will be there. 

It turns out that Brody is there, actually, but he just greets Young with a dry nod and a “Colonel,”, so Young thinks it's probably safe. 

He sits there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what exactly is going on. Obviously people are reacting to _him_ specifically, they don't seem that interested in each other at all. 

It's not hard to deduce that this has something to do with the skunk-like creature that sprayed him. He'd found it on the planet, in a nest of clearly non-skunk-like alien puppies. It had looked plump, well-fed, and he'd figured it was a survival mechanism similar to that of cuckoo birds. Then it had opened its mouth and sprayed him with a clear liquid. It had spattered all over him, and he'd cursed in disgust. 

At least it didn't smell. Although now he thinks perhaps a foul odor would have been preferable to some sort of alien pheromone that goads people into petting him or putting goddamn ribbons in his hair. 

He suddenly realizes Brody is very close to him, looking so deep into his eyes there's less than five inches between their faces.

“Yes. You are very precious,” Brody deadpans, going a little cross eyed to keep eye-contact. 

Young stumbles back and moves over to the door. Just at that moment, Volker steps through. His eyes widen when he sees Young, and he makes a little surprised “Ooh!” sound. Young walks past him before the situation can escalate. 

He needs a shower. That will solve this entire problem. 

-

He runs into Lisa Park, who uses a cutesy baby voice to call him “Colonel Cutie,” and pinches his cheek, but he shakes her off without too much trouble.

He gets to the showers, thankful that nobody followed him, and takes his time getting completely clean. 

He's just putting on his boots again when Greer comes up to him. 

“Sir, I found you!” he says, as if Young was lost. “I got you this hat.” 

Young groans and stalks past Greer, ignoring his crestfallen expression. 

-

 _“Colonel Young, come in.”_ It's Camile, and speaking over the radio seems safe enough. 

“Yeah, this is Young.” 

_“What's going on? All the radio channels are filled with talk about you.”_

He appreciates that she took the time to formulate that sentence so carefully.

A more accurate description would have been “All the radio channels are filled with talk about how adorable you are,”, or “All the radio channels are filled with talk about which lullaby you would enjoy more,” or, more accurate yet, “All the radio channels are filled with talk about how they want to dress you in baby clothes and feed you fish sticks.” That last one came dangerously close to full-on kink, if you ask Young. But of course no one does. 

“I think I was sprayed with some kind of pheromone on that planet. I showered, but it's possible the effects last longer than I'd hoped. Look, I can't run the ship like this, hiding and running from people wanting to tickle me and...stuff.” He doesn't say that the stuff is generally even worse than the tickling, although he isn't too fond of that either. 

_“Yeah, I can see how that would be a problem. You can stay with me while you wait for the effects to calm down, if you'd like. You could probably get some work done down here, at least.”_

He decides to take her up on the offer. 

When he steps inside her quarters, Camile looks unperturbed by all the weirdness on the ship. 

“Never a dull day, huh?” she says conspiratorially, before bending back down over the notebook she's working on. 

“Yeah, that would be too much to ask, I guess.” 

She looks up, gives him a worried glance. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I'm fine. It's just weird. And annoying.” 

She steps closer to him. “Yeah, I can only imagine, this must all be quite tough on you. You're handling it very well, though.” 

Before he really knows what she's doing, she's wrapped him in a motherly hug. She pats his head gingerly, and it would actually be kind of nice, because there aren't that many opportunities for hugs around Destiny, if it weren't for the shushing. And the rocking. She is rocking him like a 180 lb baby, and it is strange. 

“Jesus, Camile. Not you, too,” he groans unhappily as he inches out of her embrace. He slips out of the room as quickly as he can. 

-

He's not sure where he's going, he just knows he needs to _get away_ , when he runs headfirst into Rush. They stand there, stunned, for a few seconds, before Rush says, “What's your problem, then?” 

And it's really nice, even though it's kind of a jerk thing to say, because at least Rush isn't bringing him shoes, or trying to prod his stomach, or talking to him in a baby voice. He shudders. There's a disturbing thought.

“Rush, please tell me your complete disdain for everything and everyone on this ship extends to cute things,” he says, with just a tinge of desperation to his voice. 

Rush looks at him like he thinks Young's not right in the head. Which, he's pretty sure Rush thinks that half the time anyway. So maybe Rush just looks at him the way he normally does. Young nods, more to himself than to Rush. Is he losing it? He thinks he may be losing it. 

“Okay. Good,” Young says, because he can't just stand here feeling sorry for himself. “Where are you going?” 

Rush frowns at him, and Young figures Rush has no idea what is going on. He probably hasn't been listening to his radio all afternoon. “My quarters,” he answers finally. “Why?” 

“Let me tag along. I need to hide for a little while.” 

Rush looks highly dubious for a moment. Then he just shrugs and starts walking again. 

Young decides to take it for the most responsive acquiescence he's going to get from the man. 

“If you get the urge to feed me fish sticks. Don't,” he says. 

Rush raises his eyebrow, but merely nods. “Very little chance of that, Colonel.” 

-

When Rush ruffles his hair, he freezes. 

“You'd better not be thinking about talking to me in a baby voice, Rush,” he growls. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rush says, without taking his eyes off his laptop. But his voice is normal. 

And really, Young thinks. A hair ruffle isn't too bad, compared to some of the other stuff. 

He turns back to his book and feels his lips curve into a smile. 

Rush's hand is warm in his hair.


End file.
